


Harry, Found

by aldersprig



Category: Black Panther (2018), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-03-01 02:16:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18790975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aldersprig/pseuds/aldersprig
Summary: Harry Potter had been missing for a year......or what happens when I have really vibrant dreams after reading a lot of Potter-verse fanfiction, I guess?As close to the dream as I could make it.





	1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter had been missing for over a year.  The Boy Who Lived, the Man Who Saved Us -- gone.  Vanished off the battlefield. 

There were whispers that he had simply chosen to die, his job done.  His friends - the rest of his Trio, those closest to them, their families - denied that idea and pushed for a search, searched themselves, researched every spell they could come up with. 

Harry remained missing. 

The wizarding world whispered and muttered, but when even Rita Skeeter had to admit, honestly and without subterfuge, that there was a problem:

**WHO STOLE THE GOLDEN BOY?**

**WHY DOESN'T THE MINISTRY CARE?**

**WHAT ARE THEY HIDING?**

\-- the world outside of Britain began to take notice. 

And then.  A notice.  A notice delivered at the same time to a select handful of people:

Ron and Hermione, Molly and Arthur, Minerva; Luna and Neville and of course Ginny; the Minister of Magic; the Associate Minister of Foreign Relations: Africa. 

(Said Associate Minister was so startled that she nearly shot through the roof of her tiny cupboard of an office.)

The notices came delivered by African green pigeons, rolled up tidily like any message.  But when they were unrolled --

The sheer metal sheet, no thicker than a piece of paper, presented a moving picture -- nothing surprising there -- of a handsome black man in African dress (the Associate Minister of African Affairs noted that it looked Kenyan, but not quite) with his arm around a smiling -- genuinely smiling -- and thin but happy-looking Harry Potter. 

And then the moving picture began to speak. 

"Hello to Harry's friends and those who may be interested.  I am Prince T'Challa of Wakanda."

Arthur Weasley dropped his missive.  Hermione tried to run for a library while still listening to the message. Neville gaped. 

"I have found and, ah-"

"Rescued," Harry offered, looking abashed but not upset.

"Rescued, yes, this young man.  And while I am eager to reunite him with his friends and chosen family, the rescue involved a marriage of the ancient wizarding sort."  Now grinning, both men held up their hands, bedecked with a series of rings. "And thus I must warn your Ministry that I am coming to your nation with entourage.  I look forward to visiting your Ambassador to Wakanda." 

"Bloody brilliant," Ron breathed. "Bloody -- insane.  Outed himself as a wizard, outed Harry as liking blokes, outed _himself_  as liking blokes, and called the Ministry out.  All in one - bloody hell, the photo _talks_."

And while the Minister, Arthur, Minerva, and Neville may have used different words, that very tidily summed up the reaction of Wizarding Britain. 

Harry Potter had been found; Harry Potter was coming home; Harry Potter was a _prince_  now. 

And Merlin's beard and Nimune's... sandals,  Wakanda was coming to visit. 

 


	2. Preparations, Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is what comes... next?  
> No promises about more but we shall see!

_Uproar_ didn't even begin to cover it.

The Minister was simultaneously trying to cover his ass in two directions — never a good look on a grown man — while the _Ministry_ was trying to prepare for the visit of the king of a mythical nation and his wizarding husband who just happened to be the missing Boy Who Saved Us and magical Britain as a whole was trying to find out what the hell had happened.

Under all of this, a few people were quietly, well, hiding. Not even _hiding_ so much as _cowering_.

It was fairly certain that the boy would not remember their faces, but _fairly certain_ was not enough, not when they'd been _fairly certain_ that the steps they'd taken to get rid of him would be sufficient to keep him away for life. 

In addition to various flavors of disruption and celebration, money was moving hands here and there within the goblin economy and many of the quieter magical "creatures" were preparing.  There were _things_  about Wakanda, if any of the myths were true.  There were things to be ready for.  

The Minister for Magic had readied a house in the middle of Wizarding London - one seized from a captured Death Eater - for the Wakandan Prince - prince-es - and his - their entourage.  Nobody was expecting, however, when the black-and-gold metal - spaceship? - simply landed in the yard of the Burrow. 

Well, perhaps Molly and Arthur Weasley, who had gotten a heads-up of sorts - were expecting it.  The Burrow had never been cleaner. The Weasley children had never been cleaner.  The _gnomes_  had never been cleaner. 

"Call the Minister, Bill," Arthur instructed his son.  He was not just smiling, he was _grinning_. "He can come through our Floo to meet the Wakandan delegation.  But tell  him he needs to wait at least half an hour."

A crowd - stampede - of redheads was already heading for the ship, two brunettes and two blondes among them.  

"We've got to do our own greetings first."


	3. Greetings

It was Ron who held back his brothers to let Hermione and Ginny have first crack at hugging Harry, Ron who first held out a hand and then pulled Harry into a firm hug, Ron who greeted Prince T'Challa and then told him, quite seriously, "welcome to wizarding Britain, sir, and with all due respect and gratitude, if you hurt Harry, I— we — will end you."

That earned him a scolding from his mother, who then curtseyed to the prince — and said much the same thing, in slightly more flowery language.

By the time they have been greeted by the whole Weasley family, Hermione, Luna, and Neville, Harry was flushed and flustered and T'Challa was smiling broadly.

"I do believe they care for you, husband," he murmured. "And I am well-warned."

"You're a prince," Harry muttered, although he did not, at least, insist he could look after himself. Not after what had happened. Not to T'challa, who had saved him. 

"And so are you," his husband reminded him.

And then it was time to meet the Minister of Magic and the Assistant Minister to Africa.


End file.
